Keira
by Crazycool107
Summary: When one young vampire falls in love with a mortal will she give up her immortality to be with him? What if he's marked by death? First fic, please read and review.


A/N- My first fic. A story about a vampire. This chapter may sound kind of perverted and stuff but it's just the openening, i don't write like this all the time. Please read and review.

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Red as the giant oaks leaves in the autumn season and as beautiful as the starry sky, her hair flowed just past her shoulder, radiant and shining in the street lamp. Her eyes were greener than the meadows of Austria, deeper than the ocean. More people found themselves lost in her eyes than disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle. Her smile was shy, though concealed under her beauty and cautiousness was a brilliant mind, sarcastic cunning wit, and the need for blood; a lethal combination. She was only sixteen, or she had been many years ago. Even she herself was unsure about her existence, her age, her immortality.

She sat on a small park bench under the flickering street light, looking out over the darkness searching for a healthy meal. Her eyes shone in the dark, concealing her pale face, the locked lips. Her ears picked up sounds and movements left undetected by the human ear. Her eyes picked up details so intricate and perfect it was like it had all been written out for her, every nitpick and object description right to the way the dust hung loosely from the shirts of cotton, falling only when another replaced it. She sat still as a statue, her delicate silk shirt unmoving, as it was not necessary for her to breathe. Her eyes stared ahead, unblinking for hours at a time. She waited as the night grew dense, and the air became still.

Her ear heard the sound of a footstep on the gravel. She quickly calculated that it had been taken three miles from where she stood by a low quality brand, size eight men's, and that the man it accompanied was approximately one hundred and seven point two pounds. She stood up and was behind him before he could take a second step. He was 6"3' with black hair that was rapidly turning grey. He stood with his back slightly arched and his hands in his pockets. He was staring down at the floor, as if following a path visible only to him. His foot came down a second time.

"Good evening." Her voice was gentle and calming, having the power to stun, frighten, relax, and paralyze. The words rolled off her tongue, across the few feet distancing them, and into the man's ear like waves flowing softly upon the sandy shores of an unknown beach.

The man turned around, started by the unfamiliar voice in the darkness. The girl quickly absorbed all the information she noticed. His t-shirt was a light gray, and hadn't been washed in a few days. Dust and straw hung from it like confetti from a party-room ceiling, falling as he walked, but picking up twice that. His pants, faded blue jeans with holes all over, were equally, if not more than, as filthy as his shirt. His brown eyes were dilated in the night, revealing a lust and a cruelty that could mean only one thing.

"You scared me, girl. You shouldn't be out here alone."

"My mother and I are touring the area around here, and I was separated from her earlier tonight. Have you seen her sir?" She did not have to give a description, knowing this was a small town and any one out of the ordinary would have been recognized immediately. Saying sir she let the man feel like he had the upper hand, when in fact she was holding the royal flush. She listened as the rough scratchy voice responded.

"No ma'am, I don't reckon I have. Do you need a place to stay? It's awful late and there are some bad folks out there who'd be willin' a do lo'd knows what with a pretty gal like yo'self. I've got a bed for you to sleep in if you need it."

Lord and you both, she thought to herself. I'm sure you have several beds in which you'd like me to sleep in. She knew by the look in his eyes, the sweat on his forehead, and the way that he wringed his hands when he spoke to her that he had raped and murdered many a young women in this town.

"Oh, no thank you sir. I can take care of myself. I'm sure." She crossed her arms and looked around making her eyes wide. She knew he would assume her to be cold and frightened.

"No, I can't let that happen. Wouldn't suit me at all."

I know what would, she thought again.

"Please, let me help you. I have a nice house where you'll be safe 'till the morning'."

"My mother told me never to go home with strangers."

"Aw… come now. We ain't no strangers. I'm Bill Earlson."

"I'm Jenna, Jenna Lawrence", she replied, feeding him the fake name she had invented for herself years ago.

"Well see now, we ain't no strangers", he said, repeating himself.

"I suppose not." She said uncertainly. She knew that by using unforceful words and intelligent speech he would think her vulnerable, when in fact it was he who should be worries.

"Oh course not. Now come, I'll take you to my place and we'll get you nice and warm and you'll be fine, don't you worry now."

Jenna walked slowly toward him, looking cautiously behind her. She didn't do it because she was afraid, as bill assumed, but because she couldn't risk being seen with Bill. Not if he was going to show up dead tomorrow. As she neared Bill he extended an arm, which he wrapped around her shoulder as she came close enough for contact. Jenna couldn't help but smile as she laid her head on the mans thick arm.

He too smiled certain that tonight would be fulfilling. Bill knew that he had made a catch. Here he was in the middle of the night, with a young girl who had been separated from her mother who might now be several tens of miles away. He would not be recognized as a suspect because there were no witnesses. No one was watching him as he walked down the cobble stone streets with an unknown girl under his arm. He was in no danger. And if she was found dead tomorrow, and this was IF she was found, the local inhabitants would figure her a lost soul whom had been dumped here by some foreigner, not a local.

"Jenna" was completely confounded at the lack of attention and action was taken in the town. Here was this man Bill. He raped and murdered innocent young women and then left them out on the streets to be found the next morning. Did the townspeople not investigate the crimes? Did they just burry their dead and presume them dead of "natural causes"? How could they be so blind and ignorant, while everything was going on around them?

"Here we are." Jenna looked up. This was her first time feeding in this particular town and she observed her surroundings with curiosity and wonder. The small houses were almost as if they had been painted from the early times of colonization. This place, however, was slightly grander than any of the building she had seen yet. It was at least seven stories high, standing well above anything else here, and was a bright fluorescent red that disguised the worn and torn appearance that it held inside.

Jenna walked in side by side with Bill. She immediately took note of the man at the counter. He was short with stubble and seemed to be half-asleep. His suit was rumpled at torn in several places. Jenna looked up at Bill, wondering why he was not worried about being seen with the man. She herself was slightly worried, but the presence of the full vodka bottle quickly soothed her. She was sure he would remember nothing about her, but to not recognize and place a familiar face while going about every-day chores was almost impossible.

"Mark, get up you lazy ass." Bill yelled over to him. Marks' eyes opened slightly wider and he sat up. Bill was a frequent costumer at his rinky-dink hotel and he almost always entered with a lady at his side, and departed with her in his arms. Mark smiled, eyeing Bill's catch for tonight. He couldn't help but admire Bill's taste in women. Mark eyed her up and down, and quickly came to the conclusion that he would grab dibs on her before she was disposed off. She was new here, and looked quite vulnerable.

So, he has an accomplice, Jenna thought silently to herself. She wrapped her arms around Bill, looking up and around as if intimidated by the grandeur of the shabby lobby. Mark watched all of this was a keen eye, noticing how she clung to him. Probably lost, alone, and in need of someone to take care of her, he thought. If she was satisfying he might even convince Bill to keep her. After all, as long as they kept her out of the streets and away from the public prying eyes, they may not be in need of any other ladies from the village. They were slowly running out, and if they could keep one they could both please and gratify themselves.

"Room Nine. Make sure no one gets in there." Bill ordered.

"Bill, can I talk to you for a minute?" Mark asked, visibly more awake than when they had entered.

"Sure, but make it quick. This little lady needs to get into bed."

"It won't hardly take a minute." Bill excused himself from Jenna's side and told her to make herself comfortable. Jenna glanced briefly at the lumpy couch and nodded. She watched as the two disappeared into the office.

"What is it Mark?"

"She new?"

"Lost from a tour group."

"In Janto?"

"I'm not asking."

"She good?"

"She's lost, alone, and frightened. She clings to me, didn' ya see?"

"I did. Say Bill, before you kill 'e' (a/n-her) would you let me ride 'e' for a bit, eh?"

"Sure, be my guest. Actually, I'll be yours, and you can be hers." Bill laughed, trying to sound sophisticated but ended up confusing himself.

"Yeah, alright then. Room eight."

"Nine."

"Nine, sorry, right. Nine, I've go' it." They walked back out to see Jenna still standing and shivering when they had left her.

"Well, have a good night, Lady and Sir."

"I'm sure we will, Mark. Thanks again." Bill walked over to Jenna and put his arm around her once more. Mark watched them as Bill led her up the stairs and turned back to his drink as they vanished around the corner.

"That little bitch master's got himself another one. Good fucking hard core rape. That man's done it again." Mark sat on his chair, held up the Vodka, and tipped his head back, propping his shoes on the counter. He drank his way to utopia, knowing the drunker he was the more painful it would be for the lady upstairs.

"Hey, no pain no gain." He thought to himself, still sober. "The more pain in her, the more gain in me. Tonight is going to be a goooooooood night."

In the hall Bill was thinking the same thing. He opened the door for his guest and closed it and locked it behind her. Jenna quickly gained sense of the setting. They were in a very small room with one double bed and one bathroom. The bathroom had a seat and a sink, nothing more. There were no windows or pictures hung up on the wall. Jenna figured that he used this room because he could not be seen or heard by anyone. She had noticed the walls in this room were doubles as thick as any of the others. She silently thanked whoever was listening, grateful that her crime would not be witnessed.

"Alright Jenna. Why don't you get into bed and I'll be right with you." Bill said, his eyebrows lowered and a grin appearing on his face. He went in to the bathroom and Jenna heard the tap turn on. She walked around for a minute while he "freshened up" as much as he could.

"You ready out there?" He asked, as he entered the room once more. Jenna was standing facing the wall, and she turned around at the lust and wanting she heard in his voice. She stared at him, not moving.

"Well now, I thought you were going to make yourself comfortable. We don't want this to be more painful that it has to be." Bill as silently thinking that he wouldn't mind hurting her a little bit to get her going. Jenna knew it too, but she didn't move. Though small and fragile-looking she was strong and fast on the inside. She knew that she could pretend that he was hurting her just to get him riled up.

"What do you mean?" Jenna asked, playing dumb. Inside a smile wider than the Cheshire cat's was forming.

"How old are you sweaty?" Bill asked.

"I'm sixteen." Jenna replied.

"And have you ever had a boyfriend?" Bill asked.

"No." Jenna replied once more.

"Then I guess you might not quite understand what's going on here, or what I'm going to do to you. See, in Janto to welcome a guest you please them." He said, grateful that the girl hadn't been here before.

"Please them?"

"Yeah, exactly. We get them working at it; work up a sweat, let loose. You got to ride them before you can let them go."

"Ride them?"

"Take off your shirt honey, I'll show you what I mean."

Jenna opened her eyes as wide as she could. She knew that any other girl would now be frightened, understanding his meaning. She needed to play along before she could feed.

"I see you know what I'm talking about now. You can either play along, or I'll get what I want by force, but you can be sure I'll get what I want."

Jenna backed up into the corner, making herself as small as she could see possible. Bill advanced on her, his hands outstretched as if he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

"No, please. Bill." She whispered softly, forcing her voice to shake and quaver.

"I'm sorry lil' missus, but I've got to do it. It's your welcoming party, why not enjoy it?" He said, smiling wider and wider.

"Well now, you sure are a pretty lil' thing too. And a virgin, my favorite." He said laughing.

Jenna stood shaking in his grasp. "Bill" she said, knowing that her voice would snap him out of the trance he found himself in. She hadn't had enough fun with him yet, she needed him sober, not drunk from her eyes.

"Now don't you be going anywhere, sweetheart? Let me just get comfortable a minute. There, see now." He said.

Bill threw her on the bed, and she tried to roll away from under him, but she didn't use full force. No need to scare him yet."

"Awe… come now sweaty, don't be mean. I'm just tryin' to have a good time." He laughed at her. She looked up at him and suddenly he was afraid. Her pupils dilated with frightening speed and they morphed into cat-like slits, with green around its perimeter. He gasped as her head came up and he felt the life start to drain out of him.

Jenna clutched him as she drank. The ecstasy of his blood, the blood of a killer, flowed through her veins, through her heart. She drank long, and then at long last let him go. His dead glazed eyes stared at her, stared through her, and she let go of him, letting him fall to the ground with a hollow thump. Downstairs Mark heard this, and smiled. He looked at the still full bottle of Vodka, and decided to save it for after, when they celebrated their victory.

"Didn't you're mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" The voice echoed around room nine and Jenna smiled.

"Hello Father." She said softly, looking around.

"Hello Keira."


End file.
